Kenny
by MyOwnWorstCritic
Summary: Kensi explains why she ruins cars on a daily basis. Hint of NaKed. Grab a tissue box; you're going to need it. Warning: Graphic.


**TW: I just need to warn you that this can get you to tear up. It actually happened. It is graphically described. This is what made me take a break from Fanfiction and I hope that after you read this, you can understand the decision I made, even though I'm back now. The whole thing fit in perfectly with this ship so I decided to write it.**

**This is for a great person we have lost. May you Rest In Peace, my friend. **

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He didn't want to seem too pushy, but he had to know.

It was gnawing at his insides, and he'd probed any and all possibility; none of them positive.

"Kensi..." he said gently, making her look at him. She turned in his grip, her whole body facing him. "Can we talk?"

"About what?" she asked.

"Uhm... I'm not sure." He fidgeted slightly, making her smile. She grabbed the remote and shut off the television, bathing them only in moonlight coming from the window.

"Kenz, why do you always scratch, or I don't know, ruin cars?" he asked, gauging her expression closely.

"Because I can?" she said lightly.

"Kensi," he said. "It's me. Not psychologist Nate, just Nate. You can trust me." She looked up with sad eyes, meeting his, and seeing the hope in it. If she didn't answer him it would kill them, and it wouldn't be the same. Maybe he could help her?

"I had a brother." He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. For that she was grateful. It was the first time she'd said it in a long time.

"I had an older, twin brother. His name was Kenny." She smiled nostalgically. "Don't, don't mention the name thing." She chuckled.

Nate tightened his hold on her, foreseeing the anguish still to come.

"He was... smart, polite, everything I wasn't. I didn't resent him or anything, we were actually pretty close." She looked down, taking a deep breath. "You know, he was actually a lot like you." She looked up at him through her lashes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"And, anyway. When we were fifteen dad died in combat, and it was really tough, y'know?" He nodded, giving her the signal she could go on. "And mom worked a lot, so we started taking the bus to school."

"Kenny had ambition. He wanted to finish high school, and then go Pre-med. He wanted to become a doctor. But not just any doctor. We were very religious, I still know everything done in church and such. Once, we had gone on this ship, the Logos Hope. The people who work there are volunteers, and go all around the world and help do things, just volunteer work, based on their beliefs that Jesus is our savior. He wanted to do that, two years, and after that maybe Doctors Without Borders. He had his whole life planned out. I, in contrast, didn't. I was a rebel and I didn't do anything at school, and mom was at wits end with me, she was this close to sending me off to military school, but she never did, because it's how she lost dad."

She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat.

"You can stop if you want to," Nate said, seeing how this was affecting her and regretting he had asked.

"No, no, I—I need to tell you." She looked at him and briefly closed her eyes. He pulled her even closer to him, as if protecting her from an unseen force.

"We were seventeen, and it was fall. We both had our drivers licenses, but not the money for a car, so we were still taking the bus. It was the fifteenth of October. I remember that day clearly. It was ten days to our birthday, and he was so excited."

He felt her tremble in his arms, and he softly rubbed up and down her back.

"I was late. He was always on time, but that day I didn't make it in time. Mom had dropped him off at the bus stop, but I wasn't ready. The bus stop really wasn't far from our house, but you had to walk ten minutes to get there. I was late that day." Her voice had a quiver to it, and she had to bite her lip.

"I've got you, Kensi," Nate whispered in her ear. She nodded into his chest.

"The bus stop is right before this roundabout. It was a new one, and had two lanes. The bus would come from East, and take us West. So the bus stop was a little before the roundabout, on the road that lead you East. I remember that I was almost there, I was maybe fifteen yards away."

A solemn tear rolled down her cheek.

"He had his back to the roundabout, because he was rummaging through his bag, which he had set on the bench we usually sit on. He was just taking out his walkman. And then... the car—."

She choked up. Tears were now streaming down her face. Nate sat up on the couch and pulled her with him. She sat in his lap facing him, and he held her close to his body. He could feel her body quiver.

"Kensi..." he said softly.

"No, nonono, I have to tell you." She briefly clamped her lips shut, but then started talking. "You know the roundabouts nowadays, you have two lanes, well back then, a part was two lanes, but then you had to merge in with the other. Well, on the lane that kept going, there was a trucker, big truck, used for construction and stuff, and there was a lady in an SUV. She was in a hurry, and wanted to merge right in front of the trucker. She went to do it, and then her back bumper hooked into the front one of the trucker and she lost control. Her car went over the railing that separates the traffic going to the roundabout and the one coming from it. It tumbled over twice, and the third time it struck my brother."

Nate sucked in a deep breath. _He hadn't thought of this situation_.

"There it remained on top of him. I couldn't move. I was then standing ten yards away. He didn't have a chance. When the car tumbled onto him, when he was pinned under, he was still moving. I saw him trying to get out, but the car was too big, and the only thing not under was his head and part of his arms. He was flinging his arms, but I couldn't help him, I couldn't move. He started coughing up blood, and then he lay completely still. That day I lost a part of me. The guy in the truck saw me, he saw my shock. He knew us, and we knew him. He was an old high-school friend of dad, and he helped mom out a lot after dad died. He called 911."

She took a breath, and it came in trembling.

"I started running, running away from it. I was so in shock. I later caught the bus that would have picked us up. I remember walking into the bus and finding my usual seat, the one next to a friend of Kenny's eerily empty. I remember people greeting me, asking where my brother was. I couldn't even speak. I just went to school. Around third period the news started spreading around school. A kid from our school had died. A senior. Nobody knew yet who it was. And then I had Biology. My Biology teacher was married to reporter. She was struck real bad, and she was the first at school, not counting me, to know who had died. I know I walked into class, late, and they all turned to look at me. There was pity, sadness, anguish. I remember Mrs. Martinez, our Biology teacher, pulled me out of the class, and told me she was sorry for my loss. I lost it. I almost hit her; I started hitting the nearest locker. Mr. Guthrie, the Principal, came over, because we were close to his office. He saw me and then he knew. He knew both of us pretty well, me because I was the worst student, and Kenny because he was the best. He grabbed me and held me. I fought him so hard, but then I gave up, I lost all power and started crying. I remember my first words since the accident. I spoke them, sobbing into him. 'He's gone'. And that's how the whole school found out."

She was crying into Nate's chest, and he couldn't help but tear up as well.

"Mom had already found out, when the trucker—Dave was his name—called 911, and then her. The woman in the car was alive, although in unstable condition. I remember the Principal took me to his office, away from prying eyes, and kept me there the whole day. Kenny had a lot of friends. He had a whole group of them. George, his best friend, also came to the Principal's office. At lunch hour, we all went outside, even me, and a kid who was a boy scout or something rose the American flag half-mast. We had a moment of silence for my brother. It was so tough, everyone was crying, broken. A friend of mine told me that half the school had gone home to mourn. I told George to go home, but he said he couldn't. There was too much of Kenny's stuff there. The police had made a statement, and they said there were no other students there who witnessed it. The Principal heard this, and called the police. I had to give a statement, and tell them everything that happened. It was just so tough. People who were on the lady's side said that he was listening to his walkman. It wasn't true. After a few months, Dave checked himself into a psych ward, he was still so struck by it all. I had gone through therapy with a psychiatrist, but nothing really helped me. After a few years I got over it. I did the Logos Hope thing, for Kenny. I made amends with it all, but now, sometimes, when I can, I just scratch up a car, or ruin it, it helps soothe the pain."

She shrugged lightly and wiped away her tears.

"I glad you told me," Nate said, pressing her against him.

"I'm happy I told someone," she said softly, hoping he wouldn't hear.

"You haven't told anyone?" She shook her head lightly.

"Yeah, a few people, but they already knew." She looped her arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. "I love you," she said.

He smiled. It was the first time she told him. "I love you too, Kensi."

"Come on, let's go to bed," she suggested, getting off him and offering a hand.

"It's only nine-thirty," Nate said, looking at the clock.

She grinned and pulled him closer. "I never said we were going to sleep." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips and walked to the bedroom backwards, starting to unbutton her shirt.

He couldn't help but grin.

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**RIP my friend. You will be in our hearts and minds forever.**


End file.
